BIRTHDAY
by SANDEFUR
Summary: The end of the teenaged instrument of God.


BIRTHDAY

By

SANDEFUR

Disclaimer: This is fanfiction just for fun. I have no claims.

11-24-07/Saturday morning.

"Thank God my teens are over!"

Joan pauses as she looks in her full length mirror, waiting to see if Reflection God will make an appearance. No, but Joan smiles at her sentiment anyway. Starting today, no more teenaged years. She is now a woman, in the best physical shape of her life, growing stronger spiritually and hopefully intellectually as her grades this semester have been better. Now she has her twenties ahead of her, supposedly the best decade of a person's life. She can definitely use that after the hell her teen years put her through.

Tap-tap-tap.

Joan opens the bedroom window and sees the fierce visage of her tutor-angel. Their at-dawn ritual of an intense workout, accompanied by his boring demonology lectures, is well established.

"I'm up and ready. See you in the park."

"Not today, Joan. Because of your birthday, God is giving you the day off. Tomorrow, I guarantee you will make up for today's laziness."

With that he turns and walks away.

Joan calls out, "Hey, at least you get the day off too!"

Without turning around he replies, "It may be hard for you to believe Joan, but you are not my only assignment in this world."

The 25 foot tall angel unfurls his six wings, and with astonishing speed he is soon gone from view. Joan closes the window, shaking her head in amazement—even though she has seen the sight of her angel's flying many times. Too bad she is the only one who can see this spectacular sight. Joan kicks off her jogging shoes and jumps back into bed…

"Extra sack time. Now this is a good start to my…"

A knock at the door. Joan sighs. "Come in."

Helen Girardi enters. "Good morning Joan, happy birthday."

"Thanks Mom."

"I'm glad I caught you before your morning training session."

"No training today—a little gift from God. Too bad he didn't let me know last night so I could have slept late."

"The reason for that might be because I need a favor."

"Favor?"

"Last night I had one of my special dreams. God gave me an assignment and I need to leave right away."

"Assignment? What is it? How can I help?"

Helen smiles. "No way. This one is mine. Besides, it's not like you share your assignments with me."

"Only to protect you from the harsher stuff I have to deal with. It might be fun to help with a problem that's, uh…"

"Minor league? No thanks, Miss High and Mighty, I'll do fine on my own."

"Then the favor is…oh no."

Helen smiles again. "Babysitting. Your dad leaves for work in an hour, and I have no idea how long I'll be gone today. Eleanor is all yours."

Joan sighs. "Well, happy birthday to me. Okay Mom, I'll take care of E. T."

"Your sister's name is Eleanor, and thank you. Go back to sleep and I'll have Will wake you just before he leaves. Hopefully I'll be back in time to bake your birthday cake. Otherwise, I'll have to pick one up at the bakery."

"No homemade birthday cake and I have to babysit?" Joan slips her pillow over her head and groans.

X X X X X

An hour later, after a couple of shouts from her Dad, Joan enters the kitchen by the backstairs. She sees her baby sister in her high chair, and E.T. is watching their father while he prepares rice cereal for her. Although only six months old, Eleanor is enthusiastically on solid foods. Will hears Joan, checks his watch and smiles.

"Good morning, sweetiepie. Happy twentieth birthday."

"Thanks Dad. The big two-oh. Can you believe it?"

Will chuckles. "It seems like yesterday you were Eleanor's age. Thanks for giving up your morning jog to look after her. And speaking of Eleanor, can you take over breakfast? I have to go."

"Sure Dad. Will you be home in time to fix my favorite dish for dinner?"

Will sighs. "I'm sorry, Joan. I have a half day in the office taking care of paperwork and getting ready for the transfer to the next police chief in January. Then I have a long day of meetings with precinct committeemen throughout the city. It's only five weeks until I announce my official candidacy."

"Oh right, future Mayor Girardi." Joan says with a smile.

"Tell you what, when I get back tonight we will go to any restaurant you want."

"Even the sushi place?"

Will sighs again. "Even sushi. See you tonight."

Will kisses Joan on the cheek and exits. E.T. watches all of this and frowns. It was bad enough her main servant was a no-show, but now her secondary servant has left without her permission. That leaves only her tertiary servant to attend to her needs. She may have to enforce discipline to remind everyone of who is in charge. E.T. slaps the high chair shelf and points at her breakfast simmering on the stove. Really, must she do everything around here?

Joan says, "And good morning to you too, Sunshine. Got a big smile for me today?"

E.T. frowns again and emphatically points toward the stove.

"Okay, okay – don't get your diaper in a bunch." (Joan dishes the rice cereal into a bowl and gets a small nursing bottle filled with juice.) "First the juice. We have to let the cereal cool."

With Joan's help, E.T. begins slurping at her juice while Joan goes on and on about her day. Eleanor wishes her servants weren't so talky-talky, but they all insisted on being gabby around her.

"Guess what, E.T. Today is my twentieth birthday. Of course you don't know what that means since you haven't had a birthday yet, but it's suppose to be a special day. Normally Mom fixes me a lemon crème cake, and Dad prepares chicken cacciatore, and then there are presents! Kevin has already sent me a large, heavy box all the way from California. I haven't opened it yet. Maybe it's fresh oranges? We could make your juice from them."

E.T. finishes her juice and points at the cereal. She wonders why her servants insist on discussing matters that have no interest to her. As Joan spoons one tiny bite of cereal after another into her baby sister, she continues talking…

"Of course birthdays are also suppose to be about reflecting on your life. Looking back at the past and planning for the future. Last year my main goals were to finish my first year of college with good grades and to…stop being the last member of my circle of friends to still be a virgin. I guess I accomplished both, but that last part...cost a good man his life."

Joan pauses, grief still just below the surface every time she remembers her late fiancé, Jimmy Tubbs. To E.T. it is an unacceptable delay in her breakfast. She smacks Joan's hand as hard as she can.

"Hey! Don't do that."

E.T. points again at the cereal and Joan resumes feeding the world's crankiest baby. Her cell phone rings, and Joan answers while still feeding Eleanor. Joan smiles at the caller I.D. and puts the phone on speaker so she can continue to feed little Miss Sourpuss.

"Hey, 19 year old brother."

Luke responds, "Happy birthday, 20 year old sister."

Grace's voice adds, "What's with you two and this weird greeting? You guys did the same thing on Luke's birthday five days ago. By the way, happy birthday, Joan."

"Thanks Grace. The birthday greeting is something Luke and I have been doing since we were kids. For five days of the year we are the same age, sort of. So we mention our ages on our birthdays."

Luke adds, "And now that you are officially the older sister again, there's someone else here who wants to greet you. Come on Annie, just like we rehearsed it."

"Happy…birth-day, Aunt…Joan." Annie Girardi breathlessly says, carefully pronouncing each word.

Joan laughs. "Thank you, Annie. Hey, I miss you, squirt."

"Miss you! An…and Yah-Yah says happy birth-day, too."

"Oh. Uh, well tell him 'thank you' for me."

Grace says, "Okay Annie, you can go play in your room."

"Bye Aunt Joan."

"Bye Annie."

There is a brief pause before Grace adds, "Joan Girardi, you and this Yah-Yah nonsense!"

"Sorry Grace, but how was I to know Annie would latch onto the old imaginary playmate I told her about?" Joan says with regret. Nothing like starting a new decade with a lie, but what could she do? Too many members of the family remembered Joan's 'imaginary' friend Yah-Yah, and when Annie started speaking of him too, she needed an explanation.

Luke says, "It's not that bad, and I think Annie having such a vivid imagination at her age is a sign of her high intelligence."

Joan snorts with laughter. "If that's true, why wasn't I smart?"

"Joan, you're intelligent—basically."

"Wow, what a mean thing to say, and on my birthday too!" Joan says with a quivering voice.

"Joan… I am so sorry. I didn't mean…"

Grace laughs. "Geek, she's yanking your chain."

Joan joins in on the laughter. "How can he be so smart and yet so easy to fool?"

"Part of his charm." Grace says. "Got big plans for the day?"

"Catch up on my studies, and I get to look after the little alien since the 'rents are busy."

"Aww, lucky you. Bye, sister-in-law."

"Bye Joan." Luke adds.

Joan disconnects, burps E.T. and then cleans up the mess that goes along with feeding her little sister. After that, Joan begins carrying E.T. around the house, pointing out various items and naming them. Eleanor doesn't like traditional play, but this activity seems to amuse her. She enjoys surveying her kingdom.

The doorbell rings.

"Hey, we've got a visitor. Let's go see who it is, and try to behave yourself, okay?"

Joan goes to the door, peeks out and smiles broadly.

"Oh my God, Simon!" Joan squeals as she opens the door.

Simon Newman, Joan's cousin on her mother's side, smiles back. They exchange an affectionate hug while E.T. watches this stranger with suspicion.

"Happy birthday, Cousin."

"Thank you, Simon. Surely you didn't come all the way to Arcadia just for my birthday?"

Simon smiles at her and E.T. as Joan leads him into the house and they settle on the living room couch. Joan is glad to see that Simon isn't freaked out by her little sister's quite homely appearance. To her surprise, it has begun to bother Joan when people react badly to E.T.'s looks.

"Actually I'm only passing through Arcadia on my way to Dover Air Force Base. My bus has a short stop-over in town, and I realized I had just enough time for a quick visit with my Girardi relatives. The birthday part is only a coincidence."

"Well, I'm glad you're here. It makes this birthday extra special. Did you say air force base? You're in the army, Corporal." Joan says as she points at Simon's stripes.

"The fly boys provide our transportation to Iraq."

"Oh right...I remember now. You were supposed to be deployed right after you finished your advanced training."

"Which I just have. Are Aunt Helen or Uncle Will around?"

"Sorry, no. Everyone got an early start today. I could call them?"

Simon looks at his watch and shakes his head. "Nah, my cab is picking me back up in less than a half hour. But at least I get to meet my latest cousin. Eleanor, isn't it?"

Simon smiles again at E.T., but she stays close to Joan and glares at this stranger.

"Full name: Eleanor Theresa Girardi, but some of us refer to her as E.T. I'd offer to let you hold her, but she isn't too comfortable with strangers."

Simon chuckles as he notices the baby's hard stare. "I can tell. Usually babies like me, but this little lady seems to have a forceful personality."

"You have no idea." Joan laughs.

To Joan's surprise, E.T. leaves her side and crawls toward Simon. Maybe she likes him? E.T. reaches the other end of the couch, raises her hand and smacks Simon's arm as hard as she can. Simon, suppressing a grin, falls to the floor proclaiming: "Ow, ow!" E.T. giggles. On his knees, Simon bows his head before the now happy baby. Satisfied, E.T. crawls back to Joan while Simon carefully returns to the couch.

As E.T. sits with her arms folded and smiling, Joan snickers. "What was all of that about?"

"I think Eleanor has a need to feel in control of her environment. By being submissive after her 'blow', I reassured her of that control."

"Simon, she's just a baby."

"I know, but it's probably a matter of her natural instincts rather than a thought process."

Joan nods, agreeing. "Do they teach child psychology in the army?"

"No, but they teach us about almost everything else. And, I remember all of the things Jimmy told me to watch out for over in Iraq... Joan, I was so sorry to hear about his death."

Joan sighs. "Yeah..."

"I wish I could have made it to the funeral, but I couldn't get away from camp."

"I didn't go either. I couldn't face it, but I know your parents and Cousin Steve were there. By the way, I was sorry to hear about your folks breaking up."

Simon shrugs. "This has been a long time coming. Mom and Dad have been unhappy for years, and this wasn't the first time Dad had cheated. It was just the final straw. There was talk of marriage counseling for Steve's sake, but in the end they filed for divorce."

"You seem to be taking it well."

"I've been expecting this for years. Besides, being in the army it doesn't affect me as much as it does Steven. He just turned 16 and has to deal with the family stress on a daily basis."

"Yeah, it's always tough on a kid Steve's age, but most learn to deal with it. Half the kids I went to high school with had divorced parents."

"Me too. I guess kids, like everyone, learn to deal with the hard stuff life throws at them. How about you, Joan? After Jimmy...?"

"Ah, the usual question. Am I getting on with my life? Yeah, I guess. I've stopped crying every day. I'm back in school, and as hard as it is to consider, I'm thinking about my future."

"Including...a personal life?"

Joan hesitates. "I'm not dating, not yet. I know that's coming at some point, but I can't face it so soon. Three weeks ago there was this one guy, a really nice guy, and we shared a single kiss. I've been torn up with guilt about that ever since."

"It must be hard, but at least that kiss was an encouraging sign. You made the first step back toward a normal life. In time..."

"All wounds heal?"

"We can only hope."

After that, Joan takes Simon on a tour of the rest of the house while updating him on all the news about the family. E.T. seems perfectly calm about his presence now that she has settled who is in charge. She even considers letting him become one of her servants, should he desire to apply for that position. Simon talks of his recent training and the nervousness he and his comrades feel now that the time for their deployment has arrived. All too soon the honk of the returned taxi alerts them to the end of Simon's visit.

Simon and Joan walk to the curb with E.T. in Joan's arms. Simon gives the baby a respectful bow and she smiles with pleasure. Joan notes this new approach in how to charm her little sister (or maybe it only works with handsome young men?). Joan would be smiling herself if a sudden, unmistakeable evil weren't drawing near...

Joan turns and sees an older, bearded 'man' leading a pack of dogs. To the casual observer he is the same dog-walker often seen in this neighborhood. To Joan there is no mistaking the devil in another of his cheap imitations of God. The dogs in his pack are of larger and fiercer breeds than God's, and as they begin to pass Simon and Joan, they start to bark and snarl.

"Sorry about that soldier, but some dogs just don't get along with men in uniform."

Seeing the dogs are under tight control, Simon shrugs. "No problem... Well Joan, I'm sorry I have to rush but I have just enough time to make my bus."

"I'm so glad you were able to stop by, Simon. It's the best present I'll get today."

Simon and Joan share another hug, and Simon puts a gentle hand to E.T.'s cheek. The baby angrily smacks the hand away. E.T. 'humphs' as she realizes servants just don't know their place.

Simon chuckles as he enters the cab. "I like her. She's feisty."

"That's one way of putting it. Simon, please be careful over there."

"How much fun would that be?"

"Simon...!"

"Okay, since you asked so nice, I promise to be careful."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Simon smiles. "All prayers for my safety are gratefully accepted."

"Every day, I promise."

The cab pulls away and Simon waves good-bye. Joan waves back and is surprised to see E.T. waving too. Her first 'bye-bye'. Joan turns around and sees the devil smiling at her in that smug way he has.

"What do you want, Bub?"

The devil frowns at the nickname. "Such a nice young man. What a shame he will not return to his family alive."

"What do you mean? You can't go after Simon - my spiritual shield is intact."

"Joan...poor, silly Joan. Have you learned nothing? Three weeks ago you banished to the pit a member of my inner circle. When will you realize if you push against me, I push back! And I can push a lot harder than you."

"You blame me for that? Your death demon took human form in my territory. That mistake was on your side, not mine."

"True, and I have made it clear to my servant how displeased I was by his error. If you listen carefully, you can hear his screams. The fool indulged his whims and then was stupid enough not to kill you when he had the chance. He underestimated you Joan by deciding to 'play' with you before killing you. The thrice damned idiot! Still, I can not allow your 'victory' to go unpunished. Your very nice cousin will do as an example for you to stay out of my way."

"You can't..."

"Yes, yes I know all about your 'shield' and its' protection for you and those you love. So what? First lesson you were ever taught was about free will. Simon has chosen to enter a war zone, and must face all of the dangers inherent in that choice. Too bad for him a great many of the enemy he will face are under the influence of my minions. It won't be hard to convince one or more of them to make Simon the target they must destroy, even at the cost of their own lives."

"God will stop you."

"Whose rule do you think free will is? He won't break his own law, not even for you. Did the death of Jimmy Tubbs teach you nothing?"

Joan hesitates, concern registering on her face. Meanwhile, E.T. has been staring at dog-walker devil with utter fascination. For the first time ever, she holds up her arms to a stranger, wanting to be held. The devil smiles and reaches out to touch her cheek the way Simon did...

"What an adorable child."

Joan snatches Eleanor away, turning her back and wrapping her arms tightly around her sister. "Don't you touch her! Don't you dare!"

E.T. begins to cry from this unexpected rough handling.

"Really Joan, how long do you think you can keep the 'little alien' out of my grasp? Can a sociopath walk a righteous path?"

The devil chuckles for just a moment until the dogs in his pack begin to whimper and cringe with fear...

"I see my cue to exit has arrived. Goodbye Joan, and please, learn your lesson. It distresses me every time I have to give you bad news."

The devil walks away, whistling some strange tune. The dogs of his pack strain at their leashes, eager to be gone. From the opposite direction Dog-walker God approaches with his mixed pack of smaller, friendlier animals...

"Good morning Joan, happy birthday."

"Happy? The devil is going to kill my cousin and make Eleanor one of his own!"

"Joan, you know there is no greater liar than the enemy. Even his 'true' statements always contain a lie."

"Then Simon is safe? He won't die in Iraq?"

"Joan..."

"No, you're not giving me the free will lecture again. I want a straight answer. Will Simon return safe and sound from Iraq?"

"Apparently I do have to give you the free will lecture again. I can not answer your question definitively, and you know why."

Joan sighs. "Because Simon's future is determined by his free will choices and the choices of those around him. You know all of the most likely scenarios, but even you can be surprised by free will choices. So how is that different than what Beelzebub said?"

"You left out the part about your promise."

"Promise...? About praying for Simon every day?"

"And what does my word say about that?"

"The prayers of the righteous avail much. Righteous means being in right standing with you."

"And you are definitely in right standing with me Joan due to our relationship and your long history of willing obedience. I am not without influence in the area of the world Simon is travelling to. Maintain your prayers, add the prayers of all those who love your cousin, and trust that I will do my part."

"But even so, you can't guarantee Simon's safety?"

"Joan...free will. Simon's choices remain his own to make."

Dog-walker God reaches out to the crying Eleanor and takes her into his arms. Instantly, E.T. stops crying and begins to coo and laugh as God tickles her belly. Joan has never seen her sister look so happy.

"And what about my sister? Can a sociopath walk a righteous path?"

"As the twig is bent, so grows the tree. The earliest part of Eleanor's path will be determined by her family's love and guidance. After that, her own free will comes into play. Her choice of a righteous path will have to be determined more by logic than with most."

"Like she was some sort of Vulcan?"

"Even your fictional Vulcans maintained a logical, moral code. My way is not an illogical choice, and with the proper guidance, Eleanor can see that." Dog-walker God says as he hands back a content E.T.

Joan notices her sister happily staring at God. "Can she see you? Not the outer form, but as God? Like the way Annie sees you as Yah-Yah?"

"Like all members of your family, do to a promise I made an ancestor of yours, Eleanor has certain spiritual gifts. She has a great potential for good or bad ahead of her, which is why the enemy will be diligent in trying to corrupt her. Be vigilant Joan, and trust me."

"I'd like it better if I had guarantees."

"You have the guarantee of my love and my grace, as do all who believe."

With a gentle smile, Dog-walker God turns and walks away, giving the familiar backhand wave. Joan watches him leave, but she can not shake a feeling of dread. The wound to her soul of Jimmy's death is still too fresh. She wants...more. Joan pulls out her cell phone and calls a number she wishes she never would have to call...

In an secret bunker location, Issac Bertrand Dunn sits at his computer, routinely making life or death decisions. Permission for covert ops, an okay for an asassination, bombings of suspected but unconfirmed enemy targets, and torture for several recently captured prisoners who probably know little of any use, but why take the chance?

"Director Dunn, Joan Girardi on line one."

Dunn smiles, a rare thing for him. Automatically he pulls up Joan's file on the high resolution black & white screen of his computer. (Dunn is completely color blind, which is why he also dresses only in shades of black, white and grey.)

"Joan, what an unexpected pleasure. Especially since you have ignored my last two calls for your services."

"That Halloween mess was a lot to deal with. I needed time to recharge, I.B."

Dunn winces at the use of his initials. All of his life he has hated the joke name his parents stuck him with: I. B. Dunn. "And are you calling to inform me you are available for missions again?"

"Not exactly. Actually...I need a favor."

"Indeed? And what part of our relationship would make you think I am open to granting you favors?"

"What about what I did for you on Halloween? Dennis Park would have turned Arcadia High into a killing field if I hadn't helped out."

"And you were duly compensated for that service, per our agreement."

"I didn't ask for that five grand."

"You didn't send it back. Now you want a favor? Well...I guess I could listen to your request."

"There's an army corporal named Simon Newman who is scheduled to be deployed to Iraq..."

"Pause."

Dunn swiftly brings up Simon's service record on his computer, holding it in a split screen with Joan's file.

"He flys out this evening with his unit. Hmm, just out of advanced armored training, top of his class. He seems to be an ideal soldier. Is this Corporal Newman some sort of security threat I should be aware of?"

"What? God no. He's my cousin, and...I want him kept safely stateside."

Dunn frowns, a much more natural expression for him. "Is your cousin asking for special favors to avoid his duty?"

"No! He doesn't know anything about this, and he better not find out."

"A matter of special favors because of familial concerns? I can understand that. One moment." (Dunn's long, thin fingers fly over his computer's keys as he quickly composes an e-mail.) "Alright Joan, I have a message here that I can send to the major general commanding your cousin's division. With one keystroke I can have 'Simon' reassigned back to his camp and made an instructor. I'll even throw in a bump in rank."

"And no one will know or hold this against Simon?"

"This particular general is a very ambitious man. He isn't foolish enough to cross swords with me. He won't like my interference, but he will do what I say and keep his mouth shut. Of course your cousin may wonder why he was reassigned at the last moment, but he will never know. But Joan, this is quite an enormous favor you are asking. Am I suppose to do this for you for free?"

"That would be nice." Joan says, knowing Dunn never does 'free' favors.

"You know what I want, Joan. Let me hear the words, or I will delete this e-mail."

Joan sighs heavily. "Okay, okay I.B. I'm your bitch. Call on me any time you want for anything you want."

Dunn chuckles. "A little more colorfully phrased than I would like, but that will do. Now to test if you mean it. Go to the Arcadia airport. I'll have a helicopter waiting to take you to Langley."

"C.I.A. headquarters? Now? I'm babysitting."

"Joan, it's a modern government facility with top notch daycare. Bring you sister along. I doubt what I have planned will take you very long, and then I'll have you flown home."

"What's the gig?"

"Our friends at Langley recently managed to turn two low level al-Qaida spies into double agents, or so they thought. Now they are convinced one of the men is playing them for fools."

"And you want me to identify which one." Joan says as she realizes that with her ability to read souls, this will only take her seconds. "What happens to the man I identify as the bad guy?"

"Joan, first thing you need to know about intelligence work is to never ask questions you don't really want to hear the answer to."

"Oh. Alright I.B., I'll head for the airport as soon as I can. And Simon?"

"Sergeant Newman will be notified of his change of orders the moment he arrives at Dover. Goodbye Joan...and oh, happy birthday."

Dunn hangs up his phone and looks at the computer screen with a smug expression on his face. Joan Girardi, so mysterious and so arrogantly sure she would never work for him. Ha! He knew in time she would be...what was her term? Oh yes, his 'bitch'.

"Gotcha."

Back in Arcadia...

Joan puts away her cell phone and sighs. This was a hell of a way to start her twenties, but what could she do? She wanted to trust God completely, to believe Simon would be safe, but not even God could absolutely guarantee that. She had to do what she believed best for her family...

"Well E.T., it looks like it won't be such a dull day after all. You get your first helicopter ride, you get to meet spies and you get to see your sister make what might be a huge mistake she will regret. Won't that be fun?"

E.T. Girardi, still in a good mood, giggles at her sister's odd words. They head back into the house to gather the necessary baby supplies for their trip...

Down the block, just out of view, dog-walker devil watches Joan go back into her house. He smiles as he sees his mission accomplished. Joan's victory over a prince of his kingdom had been embarrassing. All through the spiritual realm his minions were secretly snickering while angels openly laughed at his inept servant's defeat. Most of what he told Joan was pure bluff, but there was no one better at that than him. His goal today was to sow the smallest seed of distrust in god's chosen instrument. Now, instead of being stronger in faith due to her victory, Joan will be weaker. In the unlikely event she ever managed to confront another of his inner circle, she would not survive the experience. This will do, for today... Happy birthday, Joan.

"Gotcha."

THE END.

Please review. (Note, Simon Newman first appeared in my story, MIAMI.)


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